


Captivated

by Missy



Category: Oglaf
Genre: Abduction, F/M, Hand Jobs, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 06:27:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grier recovers her target, but Ivan comes equipped with his own problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Captivated

Greir’s starting to wonder if the fucking she’s getting in the mercenary business is worth the fucking she’s GETTING in the mercenary business. She’s been on missions that were nothing but folly before, but this one took the absolute cake. 

“You comfortable back there?”

The bundle gives a panicked grunt as she heaves it onto the ground before her, then finishes making camp for the night.

Her pillage – actually return-pillage, since he was stolen unwillingly from her client – peeks his bearded head out of the top of the burlap sack she’d stuffed him in before sacking the enemy’s village. Greir makes no motion to stop him as he blinks in surprise. “Are they all..?”

“Dead,” she shrugs. “Here’s supper.” She dumps out a bunch of apples and a handful of dried ham from her last victory onto the ground before him, tossing a hunk of cheese atop it. Hunkering down, she starts to eat, and doesn't protest when he joins her.

Fifteen minutes later, the pile is gone and Greir’s lying down silk horseblankets, yet another part of her pillage. She points toward the pile, mutely ordering Ivan to lie down, which he manages to do, leaving enough space for Greir to roll herself up in the furthest corner. She sighs her relief and starts to drift away.

But at the very edge of her consciousness lies Ivan, Ivan who keeps tossing about, until she has to turn over and glare at him.

“What’s your problem, boy?!”

“Um…” Ivan glances at his lap. “My name’s Ivan…and that’s my problem.”

Grier sighs her disgust. “Well, take care of it yourself!”

“I’m not allowed to,” he whispers. “My cumsprites will tell on me.”

She rolls her eyes and spits into her palm. “All right, come here.”

He seems frightened by her expression, but he leans upward into her open hand. As she gently starts milking his shaft, Ivan sighs and closes his eyes, rising and falling with the rapid movement of her hand. There’s an innocence in his expression that amuses her and brings a tiny shock of protective warmth to her heart.

Greir tracks his gaze down to his lap and emits a sigh. It’s been quite a long time since she’d given a man a handjob, but it proves to be a far longer process than she remembers. But eventually he cries out and bucks up into her hand, spilling his seed upon the ground in a great gout.

She raises an eyebrow as the gisum sprouts legs and started running about in circles, threatening to ‘tell mistress.’ Rolling her eyes, she turns the cumsprite into a splash of gooey white on the heel of her boot.

“Better?”

Ivan pastes himself to her chest, grateful tears running down his cheeks. “Thank you! You..won’t tell my mistress, will you?”

She rolls her eyes. “The only thing I’m going to ask that woman for is my money.” She gently shoves Ivan away. “Now go to sleep.”

Ivan rolls away, leaving Greir to her thoughts. As she drifts away, she decides It’s nice to be needed, nice to be liked, even though Ivan’s not her type.

**Author's Note:**

> This work contains characters from **Oglaf**. The author has no legal claim upon these characters, and this fiction is a work of fannish tribute, from which no money was made.


End file.
